The first batch I've had to dump: a doomed Berliner Weisse

I made it five years, 20 days and 58 brews without losing a batch.

Then came the fateful day, on January 18, 2012 when I made a small, one pound sour mini-mash. This mini-mash was to go into a Berliner Weisse I was brewing that Saturday.

Overcome with confidence (some say hubris), I figured the small, two quart cooler I bought for $5 at Target would hold temp in front of a heating vent for two days. Not so much…

I placed the sour mash in the cooler at about 120 degrees. By the time I took the temp on Saturday, it was room temperature at 70 degrees. It kind of smelled like yogurt, so I figured “what the hell,” and proceeded with the brew…

I brewed the simple, 1.032 OG wheat beer, incorporating the sour mash into the main mash after conversion, and hoped for the best.

A week later, fermentation has completed. The gravity is a little high at 1.010 and the beer smells like eggs. No tart. Just eggs. I thought about adding straight lactobacillus to try and salvage it, but I don’t think that can overcome the sulfur.

I’ve brewed plenty of beer that was very good, but I’ve been fortunate enough that it’s all been drinkable. This, however, is not. It’s time to put down my first beer.

I’m sad, but as they say, you learn more from failure than success.

(I used this article on sour mashing from Brew Your Own as a guide. While I messed up, I think it’s got some great techniques. Just make sure you have the right equipment to keep the temperature high enough for the entire sour mashing period.)

8-gallon whiskey barrel from Tuthilltown Spirits. Gnome not included.

Looking for a whiskey barrel to age your homebrew, but don’t want to invest in a 50-gallon barrel? Upon the recommendation of a man whose name I can’t remember from a recent beer dinner at American Grocery, I came across Tuthilltown Spirits, a small distillery in Gardiner, New York.

Tuthilltown is a small micro-distillery started in 2001. Their tininess is to homebrewer’s benefit, as they resell 6, 7 and 8-gallon whiskey cured American white oak barrels. I’ve been on the lookout for small barrels to age homebrewed sour beer, and this is the best deal I’ve come across for used barrels. (Now, full disclosure, my research usually lasts for five minutes, so there may be better deals out there. Feel free to comment if you find any.)

I recently ordered an 8-gallon whiskey barrel that Bobby C and I plan to use to age a batch of sour homebrew. We plan to brew the beer on July 30, so I’ll keep you posted as to its progress. The cost of the barrel with shipping was $162. I had seen other “new” 15-gallon barrels for around $200+, but that was almost too big for what I wanted.

Tuthilltown had the “Goldilocks” offer. It was just right…

Once you go to all-grain, it’s mash temperatures and efficiency. You can even start to control the mineral content and pH of your water. That’s manageable.

Fermentation is probably the most impactful part of the process on the final character of the beer, yet it is the one part of the process that homebrewers often have the least control over.

I wanted to do an experiment to see how much difference fermentation temperature made on the beer. So I brewed 10 gallons of pale ale and split it into two five-gallon carboys. The original gravity was 1.064. For reference, the recipe is at the bottom of the post. I used nothing but malt, hops and yeast. No other additives.

I used the same yeast in each carboy: Wyeast 3522 Belgian Ardennes. One carboy was kept out at room temperature, around 68 degrees. The other went in my homemade cooler box along with a space heater set at 80 degrees.

The difference in the fermentation itself and the finished beer was remarkable. Temperature and had a much greater impact than I would have guessed. Here is the tale of two beers separated at birth.

The 68 Degree Fermentation

Primary fermentation finished in about 6 days. The final gravity I measured was 1.010, coming in at about 7.5% ABV.

The beer is a golden yellow with a frothy white head. The aroma is heavy with clove and spice. The flavor has cloves and dark fruit, like prunes or dates. It was very unexpected from such a lightly colored beer. That’s usually something I would expect from a dubbel or a darker Belgian.

The 80 Degree Fermentation

Primary for the 80 degree finished in about 3 days. It also finished drier than the 68 degree, at 1.006. (8.1% ABV). This isn’t unexpected, as warmer temperatures give the yeast more energy to work faster and harder.

The color is about the same as the 68 degree, but the head is much creamier with finely tight bubbles. The aroma and flavor is bright, with notes of bubble gum, banana and white pepper. It has a noticeably cleaner, drier finish than the 68 degree, which makes sense since its FG was a scant 1.006.

Like a parent choosing between their children, it’s hard for me to say which beer I like better. They are both good in their own way.

I had read about the importance of fermentation temperature in the production of esters and different character in beer, but I had no idea the effect would be this pronounced. These taste like two completely different beers, not born from the same wort. This will certainly be a part of brewing that I’ll pay more attention to going forward.

Untamed Belgian Pale Ale (10 gallons)

18 lbs Belgian Pils
2 lbs Belgian caravienne
1 lb Belgian aromatic

3.0 oz French Strisselspalt 2.9% AA (60 min)
3.0 oz French Strisselspalt (20 min)
1.0 oz French Strisselspalt (0 min)
4.0 oz French Strisselspalt (dry)

Wyeast 3522 Belgian Ardennes Yeast (4 packs)

OG: 1.064

Perhaps the greatest beer label of all-time, courtesy of The Bearded Brewer

I am really looking forward to receiving his shipment in the coming weeks. Not only does he make good and imaginative beer, his beer names and labels are awesome. You must check out his label gallery.

I realized that I never did follow-up with the results of the open-fermented tripel I brewed back in September. I’m sorry I left you hanging for two months.

It turned out very well. No infections or anything malicious. In fact, I thought it was one of my best beers.

The beer was very aromatic, with a malty sweet, banana, circus peanut flavor. It finished dry with a mild bitter, funky twist at the end.

While it was not overpowering, I do believe that the open fermentation contributed to enhancing the fruity ester character in the beer. I feel like it maintained a nice balance and was an exceptionally drinkable beer.

I would love to try this technique again, especially if I can get a fermenter that will provide a large surface area. I was using a bucket, which doesn’t provide the exposed surface area to make it an ideal fermenting vessel for an open fermentation. That may have inhibited the potential of the fermentation.

So if you feel like being risky, give it a shot. Don’t be scared!

For most homebrewers, the thought of open fermentation can cause heart palpitations. After all, from the very first words we read or advice we got from veteran homebrewers puts the fear of God into you about those nasty beasties that can turn your malt nectar into a sour mess.

First, let’s differentiate between open fermentation and spontaneous fermentation. Spontaneous fermentation does not use brewer’s yeast and is left open to allow any of the wild yeast and bacteria to make a home and do the fermenting.

Open fermentation is different in that you pitch brewer’s yeast like normal, but you leave the fermenter open. The reason this works is that once the yeast start fermenting, they release carbon dioxide, which is heavier than the air we breathe.

Since it’s heavier, it stays on top of the fermenting beer and forms a protective force field over the beer, as yeast and microbes in the air need oxygen. In addition, the krauzen, the foam that forms during fermentation, also provides a protective barrier.

Sounds simple enough, but why in the world would anyone be crazy enough to risk the sanitation of their beer to leave the lid off? Well, yeast produces a lot more esters when open fermented. Fruity and spicy character becomes more pronounced. It’s a technique that’s often used with hefeweizens and Belgian beers to kick them up a notch.

First, be aware this is not intended to be the definitive guide to open fermentation. I recommend watching the Brewing TV episode to see a good demonstration. I’m going to simply share my experiences using a Sports Guy-esque running diary.

Untamed Open Fermented Tripel

For my first foray into open fermentation, I decided to do a Belgian Tripel. I’ve never brewed an all-grain Tripel before, so this is new on all fronts for me.

Brewing went as any brew normally would. The original gravity came out to 1.072. I’ll pick up the dairy with the pitching of the yeast.

Friday, September 17, 2:45 pm (0 hours)

After aerating for a half hour, I pitched one package of Wyeast Belgian Abbey 1214 into the fermenting bucket and crossed my fingers. The foam you see in the photo is not krauzen, it was left over from aerating.

I half expected the heavens to open and the yeast to sing, but nothing really happened. It’s pretty much like normal, except I’m not putting a lid on the bucket. I feel slightly crazy for doing this and wonder if I’ve just wasted an afternoon and $60.

Overall, though, I’m confident. After all, people have been doing open fermentations for centuries. It can’t be that crazy, right?

4:30 pm (2 hours)

After pitching the yeast, I went out to run some errands. As soon as I walked in the door, I could smell bread and beer. The apartment smelled like a brewery. It was glorious.

However, there isn’t any activity in the beer. I do recall that some Belgian yeast strains that I’ve used have been slow. I am not concerned, at least not yet anyway.

9:15 pm (6.5 hours)

Still nothing. I think this is the point in every brewer’s life when you have to fight the fear and resist the urge to panic. We’ve all been there. I just have to remain calm and trust the process. I just hope I can sleep.

No visible signs of fermentation

Well, off to bed. Man, I hope this works.

Saturday, September 18, 5:00 am (14 hours)

Foam!

Because I am an old 33 year-old-grown-ass man, I have to get up to pee each morning around 4:30 or 5. (See, that’s what blogs are for, so people I’ve never met can learn that about me.)

I decided to check out the beer before getting back in bed, and I saw a pleasant, fluffy layer of krauzen on top. The aroma was still bread-like, with a hint of clove tossed in.

There isn’t much vigorous activity or bubbling visible. It just looks like a peaceful, puffy cloud of deliciousness.

8:30 am (17.5 hours)

Today is Brewgrass, one of the best beer festivals in the Southeast. I’ve had my ticket since February. Needless to say, I’m excited about the day ahead.

Before heading out the door, I’ve skimmed the krauzen off the top of the beer. This initial layer of foam, as you can see in the photo above, has some hops and other impurities that are helpful to remove from the beer. After removing the krauzen, new foam started to appear immediately, reforming the layer of protection.

Bowl of Krauzen

I also took a sanitized spoon and roused the yeast by gently, yet firmly, stirring from about 2/3 of the way into the bucket. From what I have heard, yeast tends to get very relaxed in an open fermented environment, so they tend to fall asleep faster than in a closed system. In order to get them to finish the work, you have to nudge them and wake them back up by stirring them back up.

Now, it’s off to Brewgrass. I’m going to miss my beer! More than 24 hours unsupervised. Now I know what it feels like to be a parent and to leave your child for the first time.

Sunday, September 19, 3:00 pm (48 hours)

Got home from Brewgrass. More on that to follow.

The beer has little foam left on it. I’d be concerned, but I’m too tired. I roused the yeast in an effort to see if I can jump start it a little more. The gravity stands at 1.014 (7.6% ABV) so I would be cool if it really didn’t ferment any more.

I’d love to see it dry out under 1.010, but I don’t think I’m getting there based on how slow the fermentation is going at this point.

7:00 pm (52 hours)

I’ve finally lost my nerve. No more foam is forming, so I’m putting the lid on it. Without a definitive protective barrier, I’m not taking any chances. I’ll come back and see how it’s doing in a couple days.

Wednesday, September 22, 7:30 pm (five days)

I took a hydrometer reading, which came in at 1.008, so I figure that fermentation should be nearly done. That’s about 8.5% ABV, which is about what I was hoping for from this batch.

I did taste the sample I took for my gravity reading and it was interesting, perhaps the most complex beer I’ve brewed. Obviously, the finished product will be different, but the flavor and aroma was pretty intense. At this point I tasted bananas, circus peanuts, black pepper and a hint of old sock.

There are no signs of infection and if all goes well I think it’s going to turn out pretty tasty once it mellows and conditions. I went ahead and racked the beer to secondary, where I will let it sit for at least another two weeks. I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to keg or bottle condition. Either way, once the beer is done, I’ll post again and let you know how it turns out.

Assuming it does turn out well, I did enjoy the process. The sights and smells over the course of fermentation enhanced the brewing experience. After all, that’s why we do this, right? To become more connected with the beer.

Don’t be scared, give it a shot.

This time around, I decided to take a different approach. Rather than going Captain Kirk again on my mash tun and risk falling short or going back in time, I brewed a 5-gallon batch of barleywine using 24 pounds of grain. While the barleywine still fell short of my anticipated original gravity, it came in at 1.106, which should give me anywhere from 10.5 to 11.5% ABV by the time it’s all said and done.

After sparging the barleywine mash, I sat there staring at grain in the mash tun. What was I to do? I couldn’t let all that perfectly good sugar to go waste. Then it dawned on me: do a second runnings beer!

The barleywine is on the left, pale ale on the right. Same grain, different density.

It’s an easy process. Once I had sparged the barleywine to my desired boil volume and drained the mash tun, I added more hot water to the mash tun while the barleywine was brewing and let it sit. After the barleywine was all done, I drained the second runnings into the brew kettle, sparged the grains again until I achieved my boil volume again, and brewed it up like normal.

While the barleywine came out a deep amber at around 1.106 OG, the second runnings beer (which I’m calling a pale ale) was a bright yellow with an OG of 1.032. I’m hoping it’ll end up being around a 3% ABV beer, which I’ve moderately hopped and plan on dry hopping in secondary.

You can play around with second runnings beers, too. The sugar concentration point is much lower than the first runnings beer, so it will come out lighter in color and density. You can add small amounts of specialty grains to your second runnings mash, such as roasted barley or caramel malts, to impart more color or different flavors to your session beer.

I wouldn’t worry about letting the second runnings water sit in the mash tun with the grains for a while the the first runnings beer is brewing. At that point the sugar conversion will be complete, so it won’t hurt anything if it’s hanging out for a while.

For an extra few hours, a couple ounces of hops and a yeast packet, probably totaling $10, I’ll have five bonus gallons of a refreshing pale ale ready in about two or three weeks to hold me over while the barleywine finishes out and mellows over the next three to five months. Not a bad deal!

A couple months before the wedding, I decided to brew up a beer to bring to the rehearsal dinner as my wedding gift. What do you expect from a homebrewer, His and Her Pillowcases for Lovers?

The rehearsal was going to be a casual, outdoor barbeque with a wide range of guests, so something light was in order. I’m usually one for trying to push people’s palates and challenge them to try something new, but I thought I would use this opportunity to try something new myself: brewing a session beer.

As I started to look through style guides and recipes for lighter beers, I came across the old standbys like pale ales, english bitters, brown porters and the like. Then I stumbled across a style I don’t believe I’ve seen commercially, but sounded like it fit the bill: english summer ale.

According to the Brewer’s Association style guide, an English-style Summer Ale is ”light straw to golden colored with medium-low to medium bitterness, light to medium-light body, and low to medium residual malt sweetness… The overall impression is refreshing and thirst quenching.” Sounded good to me.

I set out to develop my recipe, and once I settled on my ingredients, I found it an incredibly easy and inexpensive beer to brew. Due to it’s light nature, it was easy on the malt and low in hops. I can see now why it’s so appealing for the big boys to push light beer on the public. Despite the low price, their margins are pretty good.

Not only was it easy to brew, but it fermented and finished very quickly. It was pretty much done fermenting in three days. I gave it a week in secondary to clarify then kegged it.

I think I’m going to continue on this session beer theme and try some other styles. I’m really digging the drinkability and low-cost, while still delivering a satisfying flavor. Next up will be a session porter. Stay tuned.

The Name

So where did the name come from? I’ll give you the abbreviated version of the story. Our friend Phil has a rich and colorful history within our circle of friends. Some people, such as Phil, seem to easily attract and retain nicknames. Among the half-dozen or so I can think of off the top of my head, one is “English Phil.” He earned this nickname from the photograph below.

Over a New Year’s Eve gathering a few years back, we stayed at a mountain house in Asheville. One particular afternoon, while most of us were already slinging beers, Phil sat fireside drinking tea. We thought this highly amuzing and thus dubbed him English Phil, because, well, it just seemed like the English thing to do.

Years later, the nickname remains, and it seemed the perfect name for Phil’s wedding beer.

About the Beer

English Phil’s Summer Ale is a light, straw-colored ale with a white, foamy head. The head lingers nicely for several minutes after pouring.

The body is light, but present. It’s not watery and actually has some substance to it for such a light beer. The aroma is bready and subtle. No hops present.

The flavor is crisp with a toasted malt character. No hops in the forefront, though there is a very slight, nearly imperceptible bitterness on the back end. It finishes clean without a lot of aftertaste.

Overall, it does what it set out to do. It’s light, clean and highly drinkable. I actually like the flavor, and for a light beer I feel like it brings a subtle malt complexity that is absent from your standard American Golden Lager.

If I were to do it again, which I probably will at some point, I think some hop flavor and aroma would be a nice touch, but just enough to perceive, not so as to take away from the malt.

Recipe to make 10 gallons

12 lbs Maris Otter
0.5 lbs caravienne
0.5 lbs honey malt
0.5 lbs carapils
0.15 lbs special B

1.25 oz Willamette (60 min)
1.0 oz Willamette (20 min)
1.5 oz Willamette (0 min)

Wyeast 1098 British Ale

Original Gravity: 1.040
Final Gravity: 1.014
ABV: 3.4%
SRM: 7
IBU: 20

This brew was Nicole’s first time taking the reigns as lead brewer. It was very hard or me to sit back during the brewing process, but I managed to play nice as assistant brewer and consultant.

The Nicolie-Belgique was inspired by Stone’s Cali-Belgique IPA, an American-hopped Belgian-style IPA. She started out with a strong pale grain bill, and hopped the hell out of it with Amarillo and Cascade, and fermented with a Belgian Strong Ale yeast.

The result was an 8% golden pale ale with a sweet malt backbone balanced by a tremendous amount of citrus hop flavor and aroma. She went easy on the bittering hops, so it doesn’t destroy your mouth with bitterness on the finish. Despite all the malt and hops, the finish is nicely dry.

All-in-all, it’s an exceptionally well-balanced, big beer with a lot of flavor and wonderful aroma. I knew from the moment I first quaffed the magnificent aroma that it would win the Brewtopians competition.

I think Nicole’s ego is officially out of control since winning, but it’s well-deserved. After all, you gotta go gnome or go home.

It also happened to be National Bacon Day, so we had legendary BLTs for lunch. It was a fun day.

It’s funny to looking back at my brewing process from just five months ago. It’s amazing how much more I’ve learned since then and how a few new toys have made brewing much easier. Namely, getting a 10-gallon water cooler which I use for a real mash tun. It makes a huge difference.

I do think this is a pretty good overview and illustration of the all-grain brewing process, but it was never intended to be an instructional video. It was just to show how I did things, the Untamed Way. In fact, there were several points in the video where I just shook my head and muttered, “Oh, September Brian, what are you doing?”

So if you disagree with my methods or what I’m saying, or if what I’ve said is completely wrong, I’m not surprised. I never claimed to be perfect, especially not back in September!

PS, if you don’t want to sit through all 3 parts, fast forward to about the 8:30 mark of part 3. We get a little silly.